Afterwards

To the person who found this ' I'm sorry. I'm sorry it had to be you. By finding this means that you've discovered us also; I just hope it hasn't been too long. I know how it must look to you but believe me when I say all is not as it seems. I knew when I finalized this how easy it would be to misconstrue what actually happened here; therefore I feel it necessary to put pen to paper in an attempt to explain myself and the reasons behind my actions. Another reason is I'm hoping, selfishly I suppose, to experience some sort of catharsis ' to help me try and come to terms with it all and with the sheer enormity of what I have done. My final wish is that when I meet my maker my soul bears some semblance of being at peace ' right now though, I somehow doubt it.
So, where do I begin to explain?
My name is James Henderson and I'm thirty-eight years old. As you're no doubt reading this in my home you've probably deduced, correctly, that I'm a farmer. I came about 'Lake View Farm' a number of years ago now with my long term plan being to turn it into a Bed and Breakfast place, but as most things in life this never came about so a working farm, of sorts, it remained.
The other person here is my wife, Laura. I met Laura when we were both fourteen and at High school together - she was my first, in fact my only, serious girlfriend. Her piercing blue eyes were offset wonderfully by her shoulder length auburn hair and when she first flashed me her fantastic smile I was captivated. I remember how, after a particularly dull math's lesson, that one of her friends came up to me in the corridor singing some ridiculous song about kissing up a tree. The purpose of this performance, I found out later, was to tell me that Laura quite liked me. From there on in our fate, if you like, was sealed. We dated a couple of times 'at first to the cinema and the like, then discos; the usual thing. Seeing each other in school my heart would beat like crazy; we'd give each other knowing, sideways glances in the corridor which always resulted in Laura blushing uncontrollably and smiling at the floor. Before long school finished and the long summer break began and I remember us being virtually inseparable. The only time we spent apart was the time she went away with her parents for the obligatory two week holiday abroad. I remember those two weeks being thoroughly miserable. It's true when they say that when you meet the right person you know. I knew then even at such a tender age.
As the years went by we left school, secured jobs and finally managed to set up home together; it was a small flat with little space, not much in the way of heat and only the basic in necessities but it was ours, we were together and we loved it. Later, when times were bad we used to reminisce about that flat and smile about the old two seat sofa we used to have that was bright green, or the tiny fourteen inch black and white portable TV with the wire coat hanger that we'd improvised for an aerial. Those times, we realized with hindsight, were probably our happiest.
My job at the time was sales and I have to say it was miserable work. The pay was meager which didn't allow us much freedom to do what we would have liked to, but we survived. As it happened, fate, which seemed to stalk our every step, was about to intervene.
My Aunt Nettie, who was my mother's elderly recluse of a sister, decided at the grand old age of ninety-four to shuffle off this mortal coil. In her will she left a number of items, one of which was her home; 'Lake View Farm. And to the great surprise of both my parents, and not to mention Laura, she decided to leave it to me.
To say we were overjoyed was an understatement; to say we were a little scared would be closer to the truth. Both of us had no experience whatsoever of running a farm but if it gave us a chance to get out of our flat, and if it gave me the chance to get out of sales then it was an opportunity not to be missed.
At first we were out of our depth. The house hadn't been tended to in years and it needed some urgent attention, plus there was the matter of looking after a small yet demanding assortment of animals. However, we began to slowly turn it round and eventually we started to make a small but tidy profit.
As the months rolled into years I admit that I became somewhat engrossed in the farm. My dream of turning it into a B&B hadn't dimmed and some days I worked long into the evening and didn't see Laura for what seemed days at a time. Life was one of work and sleep. As a result I hadn't noticed how quiet she'd become. On the surface she was the same happy go lucky girl I'd fallen so helplessly in love with, but deeper down she was quiet, sullen, as though something was weighing heavily on her mind, It was only when I'd noticed that she was bordering on tears one day that I'd asked what was wrong. Looking back now it was obvious, but at the time I was so wrapped up in the farm I hadn't given it any thought. Starting a family was something we'd discussed in the early days and it was something we agreed to talk about again when we were more settled. But that day had never come.
Now we decided that time waited for no one and starting a family became our prime concern. It didn't take us long however to realize that something was wrong. After visiting our local GP we were informed that our chances of conceiving were small with the problem being my sperm count just wasn't up to par. It is not a time I wish to dwell on but suffice to say Laura was devastated. The sense of guilt that I felt was enormous. This was the woman I would've sacrificed my life for and here was I, in my eyes anyway, causing her the worst distress she'd ever felt in her life. It was then I made the decision to dip into our savings and go along the path of IVF. Laura protested at first, this was all the money we had and it was earmarked for the B&B, but we knew that it would be our only hope and it was worth risking.
Our first two attempts failed but eventually, on the third try, Laura found she was pregnant. I'd never seen her so happy which makes this next part of the story, the final part, so much harder to write.
That day started like any other. I woke early to start the daily ritual of feeding and the like while Laura, now four months pregnant, lay in bed for another couple of hours. When I returned later Laura was busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast which meant eggs, bacon and a pot of hot coffee. After breakfast I grabbed my coat and made for the door as I planned to do some general repairs in a field nearby. Before I left I looked back at Laura, my beautiful wife, as she cleared the breakfast table. As she worked she hummed to herself a bright, indistinguishable tune ' something she only did when truly happy.
I couldn't help but smile. Life was good and right there and then I counted my blessings. I was an incredibly lucky man.
I walked into the yard and climbed into the cab of the battered old tractor that I use to get around the reasonable acreage we have. I closed the cab door, effectively cutting me off from the outside world. I remember checking the dials as I always did and I remember checking the gear stick as I always did. I've replayed this scene in my mind over and over and I'm adamant the gear stick was in neutral. Turning the key the engine spluttered into life but in doing so the tractor immediately lurched back at some speed. The tractor was facing out into the yard so it would be only a matter of seconds before it impacted with the farmhouse wall. I slammed on the brakes but in the mud it slipped and I collided with the wall more or less at full speed.
I couldn't believe what I'd done. I was angry, both at myself and strangely, at the tractor too, as though somehow it was its fault more than mine. Wondering what damage I'd done I opened the cab door and climbed down. It was only then I discovered the extent of my carelessness.
Laura lay pinned between the tractor and the wall. That image of her there has haunted me for days and even now I struggle to think of any reason why she'd follow me out into the yard. It's still far too painful for me to recall, let alone to write down so all I'll say is it was obvious to me straight away that she was dead.
What happened next I have difficulty remembering. Overwhelming grief like this is something I've never experienced before so my immediate recollection is littered with glaring holes in time. It was sometime later that my mind began functioning somewhere near any sort of normality. I'd laid Laura out on the sofa in the front room and must have sat next to her for days. With both of our parents having died years before and with us being only children I had no one really to inform and being isolated up here it was unlikely that anyone would miss us until weeks later. I was glad really, I didn't want anyone from the "outside to interrupt; that would allow reality to flood in which meant Laura being taken away from me.
It's with that realization that I've decided to do what I have done.
The whisky that I have is good fine single malt and, combined with the paracetomol, it should mean that it won't be too long before we are together again.
Please, whoever you are, please understand that I can't face life alone without her. My Laura. Living with the loneliness, and living with the guilt is something I just cannot bear.
I've left enough food for the animals to last them, hopefully, until we are found. I hope they don't suffer for too long.
Now it's time to go.
I'm sorry it was you who found us.
Please try and understand my reasons.
If you've ever loved¦..then hopefully you will.